


pretty boy like you

by Anonymous



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:48:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29465280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tom finds the test tape. The admission to the illegal shit they did is the least of his problems.
Relationships: Greg Hirsch/Tom Wambsgans
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11
Collections: Anonymous





	pretty boy like you

The thing is, when Tom finds the tape, he doesn’t bother to listen all the way through. He doesn’t even fully absorb it. Because there’s a part that keeps playing in his mind, looping in of itself. He leans back, presses the button, looks up at the ceiling.  
_”Yeah, would you like that? Would you like that, pretty boy like you? Would you like it? Oh, you might- oh, you might even like that.”_  
Tom tosses it on his desk, props his feet up on the table. He squeezes his eyes shut like that’ll somehow stop the rest of the tape from playing out. And of course it doesn’t, but it becomes secondary in the back of his mind, with the main focus landing on pretty boy, pretty boy who would like that. He thinks of Greg, Greg saying that to himself, because he knows from the gentle echo that he was alone, _fuck,_ maybe even in public, alone, willing to risk being caught talking like that to himself, maybe for someone to come in, see him talking like that to himself. Maybe, whoever this is, would push him against the wall, watch Greg get all flustered like the pretty boy he is, look into his eyes-  
Tom feels himself getting hard under his slacks. This is gay.  
He pushes that thought aside, back with all critical thinking skills, and considers, even though it’s getting dark out- what if he called Greg in? Played the tape for him, with a smirk on his face, made him explain himself?  
No. That’s- that’s stupid, that’s gay, and that’s mean. Tom is a levelheaded heterosexual man, with manners, nonetheless.  
But then, he finds himself getting nothing done, the sky growing darker, the seconds going by, getting closer and closer to when the day ends.  
And then Greg walks by, and of course, with his primitive brain, he feels inclined to call him in.  
“Greg! Buddy!”  
He turns around, points to himself dumbly before shaking his head and rushing in. When Greg sits down, nervous, shaking, Tom can’t help but wonder if that’s how he was when he was talking to himself, pacing around. He pulls the tape out from under his desk and slides it towards Greg. He instantly looks unnerved, clinging to the chair like it’ll somehow defend him more than his height advantage.  
“You mind pressing that funny little button for me, Greg?” He says it with a snarl, he’s proud of it, reminds him of the joker, or some other mentally ill white guy. Maybe American Psycho.  
“I- uh-“ Greg lightly touches the tape. “Nothing’s happening- it’s- I think it’s broken.”  
Tom reaches over and grabs the tape from Greg’s limp wrist. He presses down, the tape starts- _“Hello? Hey, hi, hi, hi, I’m involved in a criminal conspiracy.”_  
Greg stares, wild eyed, panicked, Tom can watch the gears in his head turn on the topic of how to explain himself.  
Then blush spreads across his face, Tom smirks in time with his words, starting to talk with the recording. “Would you like that, pretty boy like you?” It’s sly, it’s probably humiliating. But it must help Greg a deal to learn that his boss isn’t mad, just horny. Tom pulls the tape back before Greg can, stopping it seconds before it ends.  
“Somebody forgot to clear that test, huh?”  
“I- I wasn’t going to-“  
“Oh, of course you weren’t. Nobody was supposed to hear that, mm? You were supposed to be blackmailing _me_ , huh? But now I could show everyone what a pretty boy you are. Fuck, Greg, making it too easy, giving me the upper hand.”  
Greg can feel a release of all of Tom’s homoerotic tension, falling back on him like a brick wall. He visibly swallows. “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry you heard that-“  
Tom laughs, “Sorry I heard that? I should be sorry _I_ heard that, pretty boy. Why’s it so fun to call you that? Pretty boy, pretty pretty boy Gregory Hirsch.” Tom leans back in his chair again. “Joking! More or less. Day we met, kinda took you for a queer, Greg.”  
Greg inhales sharply, “I mean, I- I am one, so.” Tom raises his eyebrows and sits up. “And I’m not- I’m not _sure,_ what this is supposed to be, so.”  
Tom blinks and shakes his head- “What do you… what?”  
“I mean, if you like me, at all, okay, want something to do me or want to do something to me.” Greg stops before breathing out a heavy sigh and starting again, “Because, because I know it’s fucked, but I think of you. Sometimes, cause it’s kinda different cause you’re married to my cousin, but you’re also my boss so it’s sort of a hot secretary kinda thing? And you’ve always been… you’re always, so, you like, flirt with me a lot, and I thought you knew I’m gay and were doing it to fuck with my head. Like, ‘Augh, Greg, you’re such a fag and I’m the only one here who knows!,’ but if you genuinely didn’t know… do you like, wanna fuck me?”  
Tom is mostly speechless at this, but of course he can’t fully keep his mouth shut, so what if he said something like “What if I do?” (which he does, 1000%, say aloud).  
Of course, Greg doesn’t know what to say, so he just sits, face blank like the total bimbo he is, and Tom really takes that in, absorbs what he’s going for (if he’s really going for it and this isn’t some wet revenge dream connected to his failing marriage).  
“Wh-“  
“What if I do, Greg? I mean, you’d like that, right? Pretty boy like you.” Tom doesn’t even realize he’s leaning forward, now, breathing heavy. He watches Greg unfold from that, some sort of panic molten in his eyes, it makes Tom feel godlike. “Would you like that, if I fucked you right here?” Greg nods silently, now avoiding looking at Tom entirely. “Thought so.”  
Greg can feel Tom staring him down without looking him in the eye, heat runs through his face, his entire body. He feels like prey, he feels vulnerable in front of Tom, more so than usual. “Do you… do you wanna…” Greg’s even internally cringing at how pathetic he sounds.  
“Shut up,” Tom snaps, despite Greg’s sentence being long over. “How about you get over here, and you get on your knees?”  
“Dude-“  
“Do it.”  
And Greg does, he watches, eyes wide, as Tom undoes his slacks. “You’ve done this before, right?”  
“Yeah- yes.”  
“Course you have.” If Greg wasn’t about to choke on his bosses’s dick, he would maybe even ask what that’s supposed to mean (even though he does understand, completely). But now Tom’s pulling down his boxers, and he’s surprisingly pretty big, and Greg tries not to think about how things aren’t working with Shiv when she has access to this 24/7. Tom clears all that from Greg’s mind upon clearing his throat, looking down at him and sliding a hand into his hair. “Go ahead. You’re a big girl now, c’mon.”  
The only thing Greg can do is blink absentmindedly before slowly taking Tom into his mouth. He could feel Tom’s grip tightening, forcing his head down, not too hard, enough so Greg can still look up at Tom with big, shiny eyes while he moves up on him.  
“Fuck, are you crying?” Tom moves his hand off Greg’s head, “Jesus, Greg. Didn’t think I would get any of those mascara tears out of you.” He yanks his head back on him, hitting the back of his throat, “Shit. This is some real secretary shit, you know? I should’ve been fucking you this whole time, really just made you my bitch, everyone at ATN can probably already tell what a fairy you are, you’d probably fit right in with the pencil skirts, fucking kill to see you done up like that, Greg.”  
Greg moans around Tom’s dick, pleadingly looking up before pushing him off. “What?”  
“Tom, I- can you like,” Greg gasps for air before sitting up, “fuck me? Or- or if there’s still people-“  
“Greg, you sick fuck. I like how you think, stand up.”  
“Is it, like- what if Shiv-“ blood rushes to Greg’s cheeks as he props himself up, knees weak against the desk, he realizes he hasn’t gotten out a full sentence since he got in here.  
Tom scoffs, “Shut up. Just, just bend over, don’t say anything stupid like that.” He shakes his head, muttering to himself about “forgetting I’m not your boss.”  
And Greg does, turning over in his mind how good it feels to be used like this, how it’s probably for the better he can’t stop stuttering, better that then saying something as dumb as what got him here in the first place, which apparently blew Tom’s fucking mind. He gets knocked off his elbows, forced to watch Tom circle around him and play out his power fantasies, “Do you have any idea how good it feels to have you like this? To have you all weak and slutty under me, showing you how much you’re worth? God, of course you wanted this. Bet you got a few little Maggie Gyllenhaal type fantasies under your belt. Do you, Greg?”  
“I, um- I don’t know what you really mean by that.”  
“Jesus!”  
“But I do want you to fuck my brains out.” Tom doesn’t respond, he furiously searches for a condom in his wallet. Greg thinks about how he could rob him right now, run away with evidence of Tom being a probable bisexual. He won’t, but he could. The silence is awkward, tense. He feels Tom’s hand on his back, sliding down. “Take those off.”  
Greg nods quickly, pulling down his pants with his boxers. He blinks, looking expectantly at Tom. They were really about to do this on Tom’s desk, in a pitch gray office. “Get up there and finger yourself for me.”  
Greg nods quickly and spits on his fingers, pressing a finger to his entrance, spreading his legs wider for himself, looking down, avoiding Tom’s stare, breathing heavy, looking back up, biting down on his lip as he adds another finger. “Fuck.”  
“What? This isn’t nothing you’ve done before.” Tom leans forward, pressing his forehead against Greg’s, enjoying the sensation of being taller than him, if even just for a second. “Let me fuck you,” he whispers against his skin. “Turn around, bend over.”  
Tom grabs Greg, aligns him with his thighs, rolls a condom onto his dick. He pushes in, clasps his hand over Greg’s mouth to muffle a moan, free hand moving to Greg’s cock, stroking quickly, offbeat. Tom thrusts upward, hard, fast.  
“Do it in me,” Greg pants. “Come inside me.”  
Tom mentally rolls his eyes, “I’m wearing a condom, Greg.”  
“Fuck,” Greg’s breathing heavy, “take it off and do it on my face. Please.”  
Tom pulls out, tosses the condom on the polished floor, and flips Greg around. “Ok, open your mouth and close your eyes.”  
Greg does, and Tom saves all his degrading descriptions of his face right now, he comes with a groan on Greg’s face. He wants to say something about how Greg looks like an absolute faggot right now, but saves it. He huffs a sigh and stares blankly at him as he finishes himself off. As his _secretary_ comes all over his desk, staring at him with those big pretty boy eyes.  
His feminine effects make Tom feel slightly better about his sexuality crisis.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it lmAOO i kinda hate this?????? but w/e! m surprised there rnt more tape-centric fics out there


End file.
